The Fate of the Red and the Black
by MiyukiWolfire
Summary: What happened to Ginger and Brigitte after the fort burned down? Takes place immediately after the third movie. Rated for violence.


A/N: My first Ginger Snaps fanfiction. It takes place immediately after the end of the third movie, when Ginger and Brigitte are sitting in the snow together. In my story, Ginger and Brigitte can transform at will, except on the day and night of the full moon, when they stay in their werewolf forms. I know there are going to be flames, but try not to be too harsh, okay?

Disclaimer: I don't own Ginger Snaps (although I wish I did . . . ) or any of the characters associated with it.

Brigitte's POV

_The Indians say the curse began in the time of the ancients and was passed down through the blood of generations. There are legends of the Wendigo and the coming of the Red and the Black. Legends of the day of reckoning, when death would consume the land, and good would face evil, of the day the curse would be broken forever, or grow stronger and live on to plague generations to come. But ours was a story of survival, of two sisters bound by blood, a bond that would not be broken. That was our promise above all. Above men, above God, above fate. It was in our blood. Together forever._

_The day of reckoning- the day the curse grew stronger in the Red and the Black. Sisters united in blood. Together forever._

I lay there under the silver sky, shivering as the freezing snowflakes drifted down onto me. My head rested in the lap of my half-turned werewolf sister.

"Ginger? I'm cold," I said, my voice shaking.

She was silent for a moment. "I'm not," she replied. When she spoke, I could see the fangs within her mouth. I knew what she was, but I wasn't afraid. I knew she wouldn't hurt me.

I pulled my hand out from under the jacket and looked at Ginger. She wrapped her hand around mine, smiling slightly. The cut the Indian hunter made was still open, and a cut on Ginger's hand touched mine, infecting me. I felt the blood seeping like poison into me, but oddly enough, it didn't hurt. Right after Ginger was bitten by the boy, the pain was almost unbearable. Did that mean I was stronger than her? Or would the pain come later? I knew it was unlikely I was stronger than her, so that left only one option.

"What will we do now?" I asked. "If we stay here, we'll freeze to death. Besides, if we don't move, the beasts will find us." I wasn't too keen on the idea of freezing, but I would take it over the option of being eaten any day.

"They won't hurt us. We are what they are now," she told me, wrapping her arms firmly around me.

"We still have to move, find shelter. We can move into the old woman's cave. We'll be warm there," I said, struggling to sit up. The cold had made me stiff.

Ginger stood up and pulled me easily to my feet. As we left behind the still-burning fort, I felt my old life slipping away as quickly as footprints are obliterated in a blizzard. I would never be just Brigitte again. Now, I was something else. Something more powerful. Something deadly. I didn't know what path my life would take after this, but I knew it wouldn't be easy. At least I had Ginger. She would help me get through this.

A few minutes later, we arrived at the empty cave. Ginger sniffed the air, then stepped inside. "Come on, Brigitte, it's safe," she said. I followed her into the large central cavern. Immediately, I lay down on the soft furs, wrapping myself up in their warmth. Within seconds, I was asleep.

When I awoke, the cave was dark, and Ginger was nowhere to be seen. I sat up, panic rising in my chest. "Ginger? Where are you?" I asked, my eyes straining to see in the darkness. It's amazing how loud silence can be when you're alone. "GINGER!" I called again, standing up and running to the mouth of the cave.

I couldn't see Ginger, and it made me very nervous. Where was she? Was she okay? I had almost made up my mind to go looking for her when she appeared out of the snow like a ghost. She was carrying a deer slung over one shoulder. I was amazed at her strength. Weak with relief, I rushed out to greet her.

"Ginger! Oh God, I was so scared!" I cried, grabbing her shoulder. Ginger looked at me like I had sprouted a second head.

"Christ, Brigitte, there's nothing to be afraid of," she said, throwing the deer heavily to the ground. "We're the only two people around for hundreds of miles."

I looked down at the deer. "It's not the people I'm afraid of. It's the creatures," I whispered.

"What, are you afraid a bird is going to swoop down and bite your head off?" she asked sarcastically. I had the sudden urge to shake her and scream. "Brigitte, I've already told you, nothing in this forest is going to hurt you. They wouldn't hurt one of their own kind," she said.

"And how do you know? How can you be sure they won't hurt me?" I asked, turning my back. I felt her hand slide over my shoulder.

"Remember a couple of nights ago at the fort? I brought them in to save you. They never touched me because I was one of them. And now, you are too," Ginger explained. "Besides, if they wanted to kill you, they would have done it while I was gone."

I couldn't think of anything to say. The truth was, she was right. If I hadn't mixed blood with Ginger yesterday, I would be dead by now.

I backed away from her, slightly ashamed of myself. She sighed and picked up the deer, dragging it inside. She bent her head and was about to bury her face in the deer's flesh when she felt my eyes on her. Noticing my repulsed look, she sat back up and tossed me a knife.

"Well, what are you waiting for? I'm starving," she said, crossing her arms and looking away. I could tell she was unnerved by what she had almost done.

After a couple of moments of watching her, I began to cut off pieces of the deer and laying them aside. While I did this, Ginger started a fire and threaded the deer meat onto a sharpened stick. She held them over the fire, turning them occasionally.

The smell of roasting meat made my mouth water, and I cut off more and more pieces of the deer, taking every edible piece. When I was done, I dragged the rest out of the cave and covered it with snow.

By the time I got back, Ginger had taken the first of the meat off the fire and was devouring it like . . . well, like a starving animal. I noticed that it was still very pink inside, and my stomach gave a little flip. Every day Ginger gave over to more of her animal instincts. I began to wonder if that would happen with me too. After a few more minutes, I took my share off the fire and began eating it a little at a time. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Ginger watching me. I knew she was annoyed with me for not giving over to the instincts of the beast like she had.

A couple of hours later, we lay down on the furs littering the cave floor. I had eaten more than I had ever eaten in my life, but I only felt slightly full. Ginger rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, looking at me.

"You feel it too, don't you? That emptiness?" she asked. My head snapped around to look at her.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence, but the look on my face gave away my thoughts.

"Do you know why you have that hollow feeling? It's because you haven't tasted the blood of a living creature. Once you drink the blood, eat the still-warm flesh, the emptiness will disappear. You've fed your human body. Now you must feed the beast," she said.

I lay back down and sighed. "I . . . I can't. Not yet," I whispered. "I've never been able to kill anything in cold blood."

Ginger smirked. "Don't worry. It'll come. The bloodlust will come. I promise you that."

"Then why couldn't you kill Geoffrey?" I asked. I knew I was tempting fate by asking this, but the words were out before I would stop myself.

She was silent for a moment. "That was different. I had to kill one of my own kind."

"But you didn't want to be what he was!" I shouted, sitting up and slamming my fist into the ground. "I feel now what you felt then. It wasn't because he was like you! It was because you had to take an innocent life!"

Ginger sat up angrily, her eyes flashing. "That boy was anything but innocent!" she looked down, tears in her eyes. I could sense the anger seeping out of her, to be replaced with something I couldn't identify. Remorse? Sadness? Maybe even guilt? "I couldn't kill him because . . . when I looked at him, I didn't see a beast, like everyone else did. I saw . . . I saw a little boy. A scared, lost little boy."

"Ginger, every day you become less human. Less my sister." Her eyes flashed over to me, an intense gaze that I couldn't look away from.

"Brigitte, I may be a lot of things, but I will _always_ be your sister," she said forcefully. I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. "Together forever?" she asked.

I nodded again. "Together forever," I repeated.

Moonlight shone into the mouth of the cave, casting dappled patterns on the floor and walls. Ginger walked to the mouth of the cave and tilted her head up. She smiled. "The moon will be full tonight. Then, whether you like it or not, you will transform," she said, turning her eyes to me. There was something in her eyes I didn't like, a kind of feral gleam. "You don't have to be afraid. I'll be right there with you through the whole thing."

"But if we change, we won't know who we are. Wallace said so," I protested.

"You shouldn't listen to everything people say. I have a feeling we're different from the others. We'll remember, as long as we're with each other."

I nodded, although I wasn't entirely convinced.

That night, I awoke to an excruciating pain. It felt like my whole body was on fire. I sat up with a yelp and looked around for Ginger. She was leaned against the wall of the cave, her eyes closed, and her eyebrows knitted together. I could tell she was feeling the same way as me.

"Ginger?" I whispered. Her eyes opened slowly, focusing eventually on me. One was the usual blue-green, while the other was a bright gold. It seemed she was farther along in the transformation than I was. "Ginger, it hurts," I said, clenching my teeth. I could feel the points of two small fangs poking the inside of my mouth.

With some difficulty, she crawled over to me and took my hand. "Don't worry, it'll all be over soon," she said. She winced as a fresh wave of pain washed over her, and to my horror, I could hear cracking noises as her spine elongated slowly.

My vision became blurry, and I lay back down, curling up into a ball. I felt my teeth grow longer and sharper, and my ears became pointed and began to rise up my skull until two furry ears poked out from my hair. I screamed as my own spine began to stretch, cracking loudly. I quickly undressed myself so my clothes wouldn't rip as my body changed, and I accidentally cut myself with razor-sharp claws. I felt something furry behind me, and couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter as I turned and saw a black tail swinging slowly from side to side. I looked over at Ginger, and saw that she was nearing the completion of her transformation. Her face became long and narrow, and two fangs protruded from either side of her mouth. Her hands retracted into paws, and she stood up on all fours, a fully transformed werewolf with red fur. She looked over at me and bent down, gently licking my face. I smiled up at her and stood up myself, the pain slowly receding.

When I looked into her eyes, I could still see the familiar look of my sister, and, pushed way into the back, the ferocity of the beast she had become. I could see my reflection in her golden eyes, and was shocked to see I looked just like her, only with black fur instead of red.

Ginger pointed her snout at the cave entrance and I nodded. She wanted to hunt. Bounding out of the cave, we ran shoulder to shoulder in the snow, kicking up flakes as we went. After a moment, Ginger stopped, her body quivering slightly. The scent reached me an instant later. _Humans. _They were in the fort.

We changed course and headed for the still-smoldering remains of the once-great haven. Through the doors, we could see a group of people searching the ruins for anything recognizable. Slowly, we snuck up on them.

Ginger attacked first, ripping the throat out of the nearest person. She looked over at me and I felt the beast take over, my human emotions lost to the bloodlust that fueled my body. Once everyone was dead, we tilted back our bloodstained muzzles and sang a song of joy to the moon. I was a full werewolf now.

_For hundreds of years to come, the curse of the Wendigo was carried down through the ages, becoming stronger in each victim it consumed. Because of the fate of the Red and the Black, the plague continued to ravage the world, eventually becoming a legend. Nothing would ever be the same again. _


End file.
